


Night's Relief

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Getting Away from it All [3]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Brain Injury, Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best part of a mutual one night stand was that it never left Greg feeling slutty. Two people got together for great sexy times and had waffles for breakfast and went their separate ways early enough that there was still a lot of time left in the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night's Relief

Vacation was totally fantastic.

Greg Sanders lived and worked in one of the biggest touristy vacation spots in the world. Nobody wanted to die without seeing Vegas, spending a little time with the slots and the blackjack tables. He'd seen all of that, been part of it, rescued people who had gone dancing off into the worst parts of town because they were so busy looking at the glitz and sparkle that they missed the dark spots. He was tired of home, tired of the desert, and he'd always heard that Panama was a nice spot to visit.

Nice was clearly an understatement.

It was a mix of glitz and sparkle and old; there were Prada and italian import stores that had electrical wiring running to them that was circle 1930 if they were lucky. The hotel was cool, almost chilly inside, with tile floors and super clean everything. The pool was the perfect temperature, and it was fun to be on the wrong side of the melting pot -- it felt like there were more European tourists there than there were Americans or native Spanish speakers. Lots of German going around the pool, and languages that sounded like German. Still, Spanish had made his trip a lot easier.

He had a few days left and he fully intended to spend them sitting around and drinking fruity crap in the shade when he wasn't visiting local attractions. He'd already seen a lot of the things further out, and now he was feeling...

Well, okay. Lazy might be the right word but horny was starting to work its way in there. It wasn't like he had a lot of time for getting laid when he wasn't on vacation. Even when he wasn't at work, he was probably going to turn around and go right back to the office. Two days off in a row could be viewed as a minor miracle. Maybe even a major one, and so most of the time it was all jerking off and nothing else that even came close to sex.

Greg seriously missed sex.

So, the first easiest hunting ground seemed to be the pool. There were a lot of business people, a lot of hot single ladies, a lot of people drinking at the pool bar. They made really good drinks, too -- tea, a rocking vodka and lemonade. He could start there -- get a drink, hunt a little at the pool, relax. It was just a taxi ride to anywhere, so he didn't have to worry about DUI, he could just hang out and have a good time.

So what if he smelled like sun block? Half of the people there probably did, so Greg pulled on a pair of swim trunks and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. Might as well get started. At the very least, he'd have fantastic drinks and sleep like the dead on a huge king bed in a bedroom with tiled floors and a great view of an old city that was turning new, and how cool was that? Pretty cool, whether he got laid or not.

It wasn't evening party bustling yet, but at five in the afternoon it was comfortably busy -- not so busy that he couldn't find a chair to stretch out in if he wanted to, but not so quiet that he'd be the only guy out there. There were waiters circling, and he could hide out in a spot all evening if he wanted to. No, it was better to identify some prey first, while he swaggered towards the pool.

He'd been a stupidly geeky kid, younger than everybody else by the time he had gotten to college. He'd been skinny and fresh out of orthodontia and he had been afraid to be himself. Somewhere along the way, he had gotten over all of that, and he was aware that he had his attractions. Maybe he wasn't a movie star, but he wasn't likely to be tossed out of anybody's bed once he was allowed into it. Might as well enjoy the sights. All of them, including that guy over near the far end.

He was pretty damn attractive -- tanned, lean, muscular. Not muscular to be pretty, but useful looking muscle, lean and gorgeous. It helped that he looked older than Greg. Maybe mid-forties. Blond hair, still _had_ all of his hair, which was always a plus, and the scars that stood out on that tanned skin were interesting looking. A splash of pale at his hip, a few lines on his arms, another on his shoulder, a few marks on his ribs. The sunglasses were practical, but also hid eye movement, so he had no idea if the man was checking out the voluptuous redhead at the swim up bar or what.

Ah, well. If he was, then Greg could always try somebody else. He was pretty equal opportunity about things, but right at the moment, he seriously wanted to get fucked. Wanted the kind of sex he didn't much get when he was at home because he never had the time to find it.

Tilting his head, Greg kept walking, passing by the guy before sitting down close enough that he could start a conversation if he liked. It was comfortably quiet for a moment, and then the man spoke. His accent was British, and Greg sort of sucked at place-the-accent, but it wasn't proper BBC sounding. "So, where're you from?"

That sound had to be properly fucking amazing in bed. "Originally, California. These days, Las Vegas. You?"

"Outside of London, but I'm mostly an expat these days. I don't wonder why you leave Las Vegas to vacation, though." He looked thoughtful, sipping on what looked like a vodka and lemonade from Greg's experiences at the hotel bar.

Greg raised a shoulder in a shrug and he slipped on his own sunglasses. "Eventually, you get tired of seeing the dessert. This is pretty much the complete antithesis, so. Here I am. Plus, I like getting to explore new places. I'm having a blast so far. You?"

"It's been good fun. I got out into the jungle around Gatun yesterday. The kayaking is quite nice. So's the running trail up on the peninsula." He was looking at Greg, or at least in his direction.

To be up front about it or not, that was the question. "I guess I'm looking for a different kind of entertainment right at the moment. Although I'll definitely keep it in mind."

"What sort of entertainment are you looking for?" He took another sip of his drink, still looking at Greg through his sunglasses. All of his attention was on Greg, though, and that was a nice feeling.

Maybe it'd work. Maybe it wouldn't, but then, anything was worth trying, right? Greg let his lashes drop, felt a grin sneak over his mouth that he just couldn't stop. "The kind you might be interested in giving me?" Yeah, it was a question except where it wasn't. Worst he could do would be to punch him in the nose, after all.

Still, given that the guy looked pretty muscular, getting punched in the nose by him would've hurt like hell. He was quiet, but still watching Greg. "I have to say, that's probably the most unsubtle proposition I've ever gotten."

Yeah, that was something. "Well, at least that makes me pretty memorable, right?" Better that than the guy who never said anything. Plus, hey. Vacation. If he said no or got punched for it, then nobody would ever know. It wasn't as if they would be getting married or anything. Just. A one night stand. He didn't even have to know the guy's name. It was generally easier if he didn't know who he was sleeping with, given his last one night stand. Not that it soured him to the idea at all, it just. Added an extra dimension of interesting.

Everyone had their secrets, after all.

"Hmn, it does. It does." He lifted his sunglasses up, pushed them onto his head, and was staring back at Greg with the damn prettiest green eyes, expression sharp. "And that is what holidays are about."

Wow. There was something seriously attractive about this man, and in all honesty, that probably said bad things. After all, he'd thought Erik Lensherr was fucking hot, too. Still and all, vacation. Vacation was awesome, and getting laid was completely fantastic, and he didn't do it nearly often enough. "Agreed. So. I have... a really nice bed upstairs. Not that I was thinking I'd get there this soon but hey. I'm not arguing with it."

"Do you want to get a quick bite to eat first? Because I can probably keep you in it for the rest of the night," the fellow countered, and god. He needed to do something about his reaction to that sort of accent, the off-the-cuff way the man suggested that he was going to probably nail Greg for hours.

Not anytime soon, though. "Sounds good." Sounded fucking fantastic, actually. The food in Panama was pretty amazing, and hey. They could always get room service for dessert later.

"Excellent." He gestured to the waiter, and the man made a surprisingly fast beeline toward them. Greg was pretty sure he'd never seen the staff in that hotel move so fast in his whole trip there, and it made him wonder what the secret to it was.

He probably didn't want to know. Some things were better left as mysteries, and he realized that he hadn't been paying attention as the guy talked, mostly because it was Spanish, fast and fluent, better than his own by far.

Wow.

Easy, comfortable Spanish, and that right there was probably why the staff had actually responded to him and sort of skiffed around Greg and the non-Spanish speakers. The waiter said something, and the man beside Greg laughed casually, nodding and rattling off a response.

"You don't mind the blackened chicken, do you?"

"Hey, I'm good with pretty much whatever. Food-wise, I'm kind of easy." He paused and considered the matter before shrugging. "Okay. Mostly I'm kind of easy, but only in certain situations." Like this one. And, well. Yeah.

"It's the special of the day. 's usually a safe bet." And then he turned to the waiter and said something that seemed to have an upward lilt to it before the man left. "It means the ingredients will be fresher as well, and the chef's more likely to enjoy making it."

Greg tilted his head to the side and leaned back a little. "Huh. I'm not sure I've eaten anything that wasn't completely amazing so far, but that's good to know."

"I spend a lot of time traveling -- lots of mental rules and lessons learned that go with travel. Most of it's probably perfectly crazy looking to a normal holidayer." He smiled, a slow curve of his mouth as he finished his drink. The dampness made him want to lean forward and lick, although he somehow managed to keep control of himself. It took a minor miracle, but he managed.

"Then I've learned at least one thing today."

"I'm pretty sure I can teach you a few more things today." It was openly cheesy, yeah, but it still made Greg laugh as the guy lifted his eyebrows at him. Yeah, it was best not to try anything by the hotel pool, but after they ate something, Greg knew his bedroom was fair game.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

Excitement being what it was, he'd spent most of their time eating half-hard. Seriously, he had no idea how he had eaten a damn bit of it except that it was completely fucking delicious. The food in Vegas was fantastic but there was something to be said for holiday food. It always tasted better.

So did anticipation.

He was pretty sure that the food suggestion hadn't been a dodge, but a sensible request, because the moment Greg was finished, the man flagged a waiter for the check and stood up.

It was only once he was standing up that Greg realized how tall the man was, like a big cat uncurling itself from a poolside chair. He wasn't a short guy by any stretch of the imagination; he was a solid six feet tall and broad through the shoulders. Okay, so he never bulked up, but he didn't usually notice that kind of thing. With this guy, it was inescapable. Greg had to look up at him even standing and the breadth of him was breathtaking.

"Wow." Wow, because that was impressive. Half the pool probably wanted to fuck him, and that made Greg smile, the expression sneaking up on him. "You were pretty hot sitting, but um."

He smirked a bit, but it wasn't an overbearing expression, while he waited for Greg to join him standing. "Recently retired from the Army. Running helps me keep up."

Thank God Nick made him go to the gym with him. Okay, so he never bulked up, but at least he wasn't a ninety pound weakling. "Nice." And hopefully a filthy fuck.

The gleam in his eyes promised as much, as they started over the terracotta tiles, back into the hotel lobby's blasting air conditioning. "You're nothing to be ashamed of."

Yeah, but still. "Oh, I know. But... wow." Wow, and that had to feel good to hear, because Greg appreciated hearing he was attractive, as well. Somehow, time for this kind of thing fell by the wayside when he was working.

"Wow?" The other man laughed, a comfortable, casual sound. "Yeah, not used to getting a wow. We should go form a mutual appreciation society when we get up to your room?"

"We can't get there soon enough." The elevators were pretty fast, and he hit the button. A door opened automatically, which he figured was a damned auspicious beginning.

Speed wasn't of the essence, but it was if he didn't want little Greg trying to make an escape through the front of his swim trunks. It was bizarre to stand there quietly in the elevator, but then they'd both likely seen the big auspicious security camera in the corner. Hell, Greg was familiar with the whole eye in the sky thing, and he preferred not to be caught blowing somebody in an elevator. He wasn't sure about the laws in Panama, but he was pretty damn sure that he'd get great looks when he got home.

That was the thing about working with investigators; everybody always knew everything, sometimes before whoever it was happening to knew it. It was sort of crazy, Greg decided, to risk a good thing when he could have even better by just walking casually down the hallway and fishing in his swim trunks for his room key. A quick slide and the door flashed green, and wow. He could totally pick them, because the latch hadn't fully secured itself before hot-blond-just-retired-from-the-Army had him up against a wall with his hands in all kinds of interesting places.

One hand up the back of his t-shirt and the other down the back of his swim trunks, and Greg backed up hard against the wall as the man leaned down to kiss him at the same time as he got a couple of handfuls of Greg. Clearly there was nothing to complain about here because holy fuck, that was.. it was like being overwhelmed by something wild, and the best he could do was reach out, arms sliding over broad shoulders, entire body melting into that touch. Fuck, yes, that was delicious, and he wanted to do this so badly he could barely contain it. He just let himself feel, concentrated on what it felt like to have a hot, mostly already naked guy pressing up against him, kissing him with tongue like it was going out of style, like he hadn't had human contact in far too long. He pulled back and asked, "You have condoms, right?"

"Yeah." Yeah, because what idiot went and got laid on vacation without condoms? People who travelled without checking they had at least a good half dozen were clearly fucking unprepared. "Yeah, and lube, and..." And more kissing, and wow. That was... nnn.

"Good. Excellent." That accent was something else, too, and then the guy was pulling Greg's t-shirt up and over his head, and dropping it onto the floor. "Very nice."

Oh, yes, it was, and Greg leaned in, helping strip off both of them. They got a little tangled for a moment, and then they were both free and naked and there was something completely irresistible about that skin, about the scars marking it, and he found himself mouthing the white line across his shoulder, tongue feeling the smoother texture of it. He tasted like nothing more than salt, not sunscreen or anything else, and damn.

Damn that tasted good, felt good, like the press of nose against his neck, and kisses there, the other man sliding arms around him before he shifted abruptly. It was disorienting, to have a sort of naked makeout partner drop to his knees, pressing kisses against Greg's stomach in a way that made his dick spring up to say hello. Hi. Yes, definitely hello, and Greg's fingers clenched into fists, breath jerking inwards in a gasp as he was swallowed down to the fucking root.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Holy shit, and he was pretty sure he was mumbling that, desperate and trying his damnedest to hold on.

It was like having a god-damned human vacuum cleaner on his dick. The guy pulled back with a pornish wet slurp, flicked his tongue right into Greg's piss slit, and then slurped his way back down to the root, fingers massaging Greg's nuts through it all.

This clearly wasn't going to last very long at all, and he made a frantic sound to try and warn him that he was going to come, there was no way he wasn't going to come, and he moaned, shuddering wildly. Hot wet mouth, and hands at his hips, now, squeezing, pulling him in, goading him to fuck that great face, and come down his throat. It was gorgeous, and then the guy looked up at Greg despite the mouthful he had, it was perfect and he could just let go and come, clenching tight with the force of it. His hands gripped those broad shoulders tightly and the noises he made were probably fucking embarrassing but who gave a fuck? Definitely not Greg because oh god. Oh god, that was fucking fantastic and his knees went kind of weak in there somewhere.

He didn't fall over, but that might've had something to do with strong hands holding him upright despite the fact that his body briefly wanted to call it a night. God. It had been so long and he just wanted... he had no idea exactly what he wanted, but fucking A, this was a damn good step towards it, and he curled his hand around the back of the big man's neck and held on for a moment.

Wow had clearly been the understatement of the century.

He pulled back, slowly, and licked a line along Greg's half hard dick, enough sensation to make it jump a little, almost uncomfortable. "Sorry, thought I'd take the edge off."

"Take the edge off, knock me on my ass, either one. I'm okay with both of those things." And then some because that had been fantastic. He tugged, licking his lips and trying to pull himself together. "So. Is there anything you just want?"

"I want plenty. We'll have to find out what you can keep up with," the guy promised. Greg wasn't going to go out of his way to ask or offer a name, because that gave everyone a good round of plausible deniability in his opinion.

He couldn't keep from grinning at the guy even as he stood, and Greg looked up into his eyes. "I can keep up. And if I can't, then you can just fuck me into the mattress." He was pretty sure he'd manage, though.

"Conveniently, that's on the list." He was leaning in to kiss Greg, though, hands on his hips as he pulled up, away from the wall. Damn, but he could kiss, too, like he hadn't kissed anyone in a stupidly long time, like he needed something, required this, and Greg could give it to him. He had it to give, and so he opened up, let him plunder slick and hot, smooth slide of tongue and lips, and he couldn't help the sounds he made. He'd never quite gotten soft, but this was damn sure a guarantee that he wouldn't, either.

It was like fucking the man's tongue, or being fucked by it, or... or Greg wasn't sure, because he felt explored and a little breathless when the man backed him up to the edge of the massive low set bed. "I want to take you apart, until you're begging for it..."

He didn't have the heart to say that he wouldn't be the first to try it, but he'd give kudos if he was the first to actually accomplish it. Instead, he gave a low laugh and let go long enough to get himself into the bed properly. "I can't wait."

"I plan on completely ruining you for whatever you're going back home to after your holiday." It wasn't a threat, but it could've been one if the man hadn't been grinning in a comfortable easy way before he moved over Greg and started to kiss at his neck, his collarbones, while he started to manhandle him towards the center of the bed.

"I have absolutely no, oh, oh, that's..." Very nice. It wasn't like he had anything to go home to, so he couldn't really be ruined. He wasn't about to say as much, though. If a guy wanted to fuck the stuffing out of him, Greg wasn't going to discourage him. It felt pretty good to run his hands over the man's muscled back, fingers lingering at deep scars, crevices and dents. It made him curious, made him want to know where they came from and what he did to get them. Made him want to know things that he wouldn't ask because this wasn't that kind of thing, and sometimes a little mystery was a good thing, or so they said.

Greg sucked at mystery unless it was ferreting out the truth underneath it. Beneath the skin, and his hand clenched around an arm as hips rocked against him insistently.

"I like the way you feel." Fingers slid down the line of his back, tracing over each bump of his spine like it was a curiosity. Then he pressed at the small of Greg's back, sliding lower with dry fingers in a way that made him arch, made him harden a little faster, and fuck. That was uncomfortable, but also pretty fucking good.

Seriously, he was enjoying the other guy's feeling, too. "Good. The... feeling... is mutual." Yeah, and that was a bad pun, one that wanted to make him laugh a little, but he was pretty sure that wasn't proper one night stand etiquette, at least until he heard the low chuckle. The dry press, just sensation, nothing overly serious to worry about, was joined with a brush of teeth against his left nipple, a slide of tongue before the man with the vacuum cleaner mouth gave it a hard suck.

Christ all fucking mighty. He might just propose, and that was saying something. Admittedly it wasn't chains and nipple clamps, but hey. There was dangerous and then there was _dangerous_ , and at least he could be sure that somebody would be looking for his body if he got laid by the wrong guy in Las Vegas.

That did make him chuckle a little breathlessly, head dropping back on the pillows. "Holy god, that's. That's really impressive. That's.. you bring new meaning to the whole golf ball through a garden hose phrase."

"I had a... partner who liked to be sucked for long stretches. He'd wear a cockring just so he could enjoy it." The man was grinning, pressed his mouth against Greg's shoulder. "Want to turn over?"

Hmm. That was interesting, and it made him curious as hell, but there was a time and a place for that kind of thing and this clearly wasn't it. Not even close, so he shifted, scrunched himself down to catch another kiss and then turned from beneath that long, lean body and settled in comfortably, wrapping his arms around a pillow and peeking over his shoulder. "Sounds fun."

"More fun than you can imagine." Having a man like that down on his knees for however long that took, all of that focus just on him? Jesus, that sounded really good. Maybe he'd just rolled himself an honest to god sex fiend for once, because that mouth was kissing between his shoulder blades, lingering at the nape of Greg's neck and hitting blank spots of sensation here and there while the man's hands did the same at his sides.

It felt a little like being worshipped except not. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever done that to him, or even spent this kind of time just feeling him out, touching all the parts of him. Fingers stroked over spots that Greg couldn't remember even having, and there was a hot, nipping trail being laid down his spine that made him shake.

It was half a massage peppered over with kisses and bites. He felt the press of teeth against one ass cheek. Like he was a peach, and not skin and flesh and bones. "Nice."

Nice, yeah, even if he usually thought of himself as kind of skinny-hipped. Grinning back over his shoulder, he stretched himself out, slow and languid. "Mmmm."

"Oh yeah. Jesus, you taste good." He shifted sideways a little, and he felt the first lick sliding up his ass crack.

Holy shit.

Holy, holy, holy shit, because he was pretty sure that he had never had anybody do what it seemed like this guy planned on doing and holy fucking shit. He took a few deep breaths, let himself feel the slick drag of tongue just before it touched the edge of his asshole, and then he made a sound that didn't seem like it could be anything except mewling, pleading, begging. If anybody was in the room next door, they'd probably think someone was doing something highly illegal to a cat or something.

He felt the man's tongue press, a slick point, pressing in against his asshole, probing, pulling back, probing again, fucking him slowly, and he was pretty sure that all higher brain functions were going to stop right then. He was lucky his heart didn't stop, and he was shaking, blood pounding fit to burst. His knees were an uncoordinated mess because he wanted to pull them up and get them under him, do something to get more of that fucking amazing feeling, but all he could manage was to writhe and moan and try to keep breathing.

Stay spread open, waiting, willing beneath the man as he paused briefly, spit, and then spread Greg's asscheeks before plying his tongue against Greg's hole, humming to himself. Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, he was going to come again, and they hadn't even gotten to fucking as yet.

"I'm gonna...." Incoherent, garbled, a fucking travesty of an explanation, the whole thing. Warning, yes, and maybe a little more because he was sneaking past his mid-thirties and while he could still do this for a damn long time, he wanted to still be... yeah. He didn't expect the fingers that slid underneath him, wrapped tight around his dick at the base and _squeezed_ firmly. The licking, tonguing, slick damp feeling dipping in and out of his hole didn't stop, though, just kept going, doing things that were starting to take him the fuck apart, and the sounds he couldn't keep from making were thready, constant, pleading, all mixed in with sharp invectives and the shudder wracking through every inch of him.

He squirmed and humped the mattress, and just rode it. There was nothing for him to do but ride the man's tongue until he was panting, a panting melted puddle beneath him when he finally pulled back, and gave a pleased sigh. "Jesus. I could do that all day."

Greg couldn't get his fucking mouth to work for several moments. When he finally did, it was slurred and he sounded like he was on a three day drunk. "Pretty sure I couldn't live through it."

"You could. Voice of experience." Coming from a man who apparently loved to eat ass, lingering kisses back up his spine. "Where do you keep the lube and condoms?"

He made a vague flail of his arm, moaning. "Um. Somewhere. Over. In the... in my bag. Suitcase. Front compartment." Because some things should be readily at hand, and those were definitely some of those things.

The bed shifted, all of that warm bare skin missing for a moment while the random guy he'd invited up to his room did the semi responsible thing and got condoms. Thank god one of them had the ability to do that because Greg was pretty sure after that, he was in no shape to even try bucking off a man who could do something that amazing with his tongue. Somehow, he managed to shift himself, roll over and look at the way the man moved, that entire long, lean body stretching and making his mouth go dry at the sight.

He was casual with nudity, digging through the front pocket of Greg's suitcase with determination. Greg saw two foil-shiny condoms, and once he'd palmed the lube in its travel safe size, he was back and walking towards the bed.

Before, he hadn't gotten a good look at the size of the guy. Maybe he should have extrapolated from the information available to him, but just because a guy was sizable didn't mean his dick would be. This go round, the inference would have been clearly on the spot because holy crow, Batman, that thing was just... no wonder he was so good with his tongue. Something had to be enough to loosen a guy up for that. 

His eyes flickered down briefly, following Greg's gaze, and then he looked up with a smirk as he put a knee on the bed. "Oh yeah. That's not a problem, is it?"

Ha. Confident motherfucker, and no wonder, because yeah. That. Wasn't going to be a problem. Admittedly that was clearly the dick of a porn star, but he could handle it. Probably. "Not in the least."

"Good. Don't worry, I know how to handle a dangerous weapon." Smug and grinning at his own joke, too, while he reached to slid a hand up along Greg's thigh.

"I'd bet that's sent somebody screaming for the door at least once." Or maybe twice, but he'd had a partner who loved to be blown, and Greg would be willing to bet he'd loved getting his ass eaten, too. So far, it was two for two, so he was going to take three on faith.

The last one had probably trained him really well, Greg decided as the guy leaned in to kiss him again. He generally appreciated boyfriends and partners who at least imparted something good on their way out, and god, that man's hands were good on his dick, so good, pumping him slowly, idly, teasing him and ramping him up as if he hadn't already practically been fucked into the mattress without ever being ridden.

"You're really something."

"I've heard that before a time or two." He was moving his other hand to hitch Greg's legs up, just one to start, pulling at Greg so he could hook a knee over his shoulder. Clearly tongue was his idea of the best prep ever, and he was pretty sure the guy wasn't wrong about that. If he was, they'd probably find out pretty damn shortly.

He couldn't imagine that it'd be enough, but then the hand on his dick abandoned him, and he could see the guy getting himself condomed up, getting lube all over himself, all over his fingers. "Don't worry, not done yet."

"I wasn't worried." That was a lie, a dirty lie, a damned dirty lie. "Okay, much." Much, because he was watching what what he hoped was undeniable appreciation. Something like that deserved it. He'd seen big dicks that were weirdly shaped, but really, the guy was all over handsome. He belonged on a nude beach somewhere. 

The press of two slicked fingertips against his asshole, just edging in, a teasing touch, was almost a relief in light of what he was looking at. That he could take, and he couldn't help moaning and pushing into it. The thing with the tongue had been amazing and it had clearly loosened him up more than he had realized because fuck that felt good, just right, and he realized he was rocking into it, enjoying the feel of it. Reaching down, he took his balls in a tight grasp and pulled them, trying to edge back from coming again way too fucking soon. Just felt good to have two fingers take their time sliding into him. "You should see how you look, all splayed open and begging for it," he murmured. "Christ. I should just fuck you open with my cock."

Right at the moment, Greg was pretty sure he wouldn't say no. Not in the least, because he could only shift, arch his back like it was going to get him closer, and fuck, fuck. Fuck, that was so good, and he let out a whine that as much as said that. "Oh god."

"Yeah? Let's try that, then." He edged his fingers out, and shifted in closer. Just a fraction, the slow swap of fingers leaving him empty feeling for a moment before he felt the slick press of the head of a hard, thick dick.

Whining was going to be the least of it. His brows knit and his mouth fell open, breath coming in soft, damp pants as he felt the push of it, slow and steady, and holy fuck. Holy fuck, that was definitely porn star dick, dragging tears to his eyes and making him squirm. One hand was curved hard around his hip, digging in, and Greg couldn't help making a sound that might or might not have been pleasure.

Greg wondered if the guy's partner had ever gotten used to that feeling.

He didn't push in deep -- just enough to make him feel it, so that when he started to rock slowly, in and out and in and out, tiny fucking motions, he didn't fall out. Greg was pretty sure there was no unlodging it. "Oh god. That's, Jesus you feel good."

The moan that came from his chest sounded completely fucking wrecked. "Fucking fucking hell. Oh fuck. God, that's.. oh god." God, because Greg was pretty sure no matter how many people he'd fucked, he'd never felt so stretched and full and positively _fucked_. Each little shift got that cock a little deeper at a time, and it felt... there weren't any words for how it felt. Nothing, and maybe his own desire waned some with the feel of it, but he was pretty sure that wouldn't last for long.

Not when it kept going, not when he kept _doing_ it, fucking his way slow and slick into Greg, twinging with every in and out motion while the man's hand held tight to his knee, his hip. "More?"

"Oh my god, I'm going to die with your dick in me and it's going to be fucking amazing." It sounded slurred and maybe kind of high, because holy shit. He ached and hurt and reached down with one fumbling hand to find his cock, stroke it, and he moaned with a desperate kind of pleasure.

"Never had that happen, either," the man grinned, and gave a stutter forward of his hips. He turned his head, kissed the inside of Greg's knee, and pulled back slowly.

Ohhhh god. God, that pull back was almost a relief, and he drew in a deep, shattered kind of breath only to let it out in a yell when he pushed back in just as steadily. "Fuck!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, because he was going to come. He wasn't going to last and they hadn't even gotten to the actual fucking.

This was more like a reaming, slow and thick and aching. The man kept moving steadily, and Greg didn't know how he was moving without doing more than flexing his hands on his Greg's hips and chewing on his bottom lip. "Christ."

That was a good word. Christ, Jesus, fuck. Fuck, fuck, because that. That was way more like it. Always better to call out for god when somebody was fucking him than calling out the wrong name. "Huh-how many p-people... Jesus fucking Christ. How do... oh god." Oh god, he couldn't think, that dick was responsible for the fact that his brain was apparently turning to a goo made of utter and complete sexual satisfaction.

"Not enough, surprisingly. Women seem to mind more than men..." And then he pulled back, a long slow stroke that made Greg hope nothing was being turned inside out. He wasn't sure, didn't know, but he was pretty sure that his very brain was going to be fucked right out of him at this rate. His breath panted out of him, his fingers fisting tightly into the covers, and when the guy got in him even deeper, he was pretty sure that he fucking yowled.

"Uhn, beautiful. Jesus, fucking..." He snapped his hips, started to move at a slow, comfortable enough pace, even if Greg's dick was bobbing and he was squirming around that thick dick, trying to do more than just feel it stretching and pushing deep into him in every fucking direction. It was intense and hot and maybe a little too much but he had a feeling he would look back on this as one of those epic fucks to remember.

Biting his lip, he shifted, squeezed his ass tightly at the next push in, and that was a gorgeous noise. As if the accent hadn't been hot enough. He didn't think people could groan in an accent, but apparently they could because he'd never heard that sort of low back of the throat growl before that moment. The man leaned into him further, one hand on the side of his knee as he started to fuck harder, boring into him, and shit shit, fuck, he could see goddamned _stars_ and whoever was next door was knocking but it didn't matter. He couldn't bring himself to care. The best he could do was wrap his hand more tightly around his dick and stroke himself off like there was no tomorrow.

He didn't have far to go, not when he was hard again and he was being fucked like that, like the guy was a fucking machine. Muscles flexed and shifted gorgeously with every motion, and Greg managed to keep his eyes half open despite the drilling and the urge to give in to coming. He was so close, so fucking close, and it wasn't going to take much longer. Not much longer at all, and he gasped in a breath and arched, thumb rubbing over the head of his cock and then the world exploded somewhere in the center of him and Greg wasn't sure he had ever come so hard. Not when he was still being jarred into the mattress, fucked wide open. Usually good orgasms like that came after a lot of time with a vibrator, not at the end of a human. Still, one night stands, one night stands that left him panting and opened up when the other man seemed to finally come, thick dick moving with stuttering motions, jerks, while he bit at his own bottom lip.

God fucking damn.

He clearly needed this man's information for regular booty calls. Or maybe to ask if he had a brother. Or something. The way the guy laughed made Greg blink himself back to something like reality. He ached all over in the best ways and his ass was practically throbbing. "Hm?"

"Sorry, no brothers. Just a sister." He was still shifting out, holding the base of the condom against himself as he tidied that up. "You're amazing."

Greg moaned, because shit. Shit, that almost stung, and it was... yeah. Oh, yeah. "I think it's pretty fair to return the compliment."

He threw the condom at the trash can beside the TV and pretty much nailed the throw before he shifted to sprawl out beside Greg on the massive bed. "I did promise you all night."

All night.

It might kill him, but he was sure of one thing.

It would almost be worth it.

* * *

The best part of a mutual one night stand was that it never left Greg feeling slutty. Two people got together for great sexy times and had waffles for breakfast and went their separate ways early enough that there was still a lot of time left in the day. Greg booked himself on the boat tour to Monkey Island on the recommendation of the people at the front desk and five or six internet reviews. A whole day of comped lounging on a house boat, or kayaking and generally having fun while drinking sounded awesome, and was just a taxi ride and a hundred bucks away.

Everything was amazingly green, and he found himself walking towards the front of the boat, curious to see where they were going. After all, Greg liked new things, and his curiosity got the better of him sometimes.

"Will they come play with us again, Basty?"

For some reason, that caught his attention. It wasn't the sound of a kid; the voice was too deep, too dark, and the accent was... yeah.

Irish, lilting, a little touched at the edges with something he couldn't place. Al was the one at the lab who could tell him what he was hearing, but Al wasn't there, and it was probably rude to pursue, but he figured he'd be sitting around a table drinking with them all by the end of the long comfortable tour, so there was no harm in wandering in close to get a look.

"I imagine they will, Jimmy. That capuchin liked you the other day."

Oh.

 _Oh_ , wow, that put a completely different perspective on things, and Greg stopped short when he saw him there. A name to go with a face now, Basty, and he was standing next to a small dark-haired man, covering him with sunblock. He was nothing at all like he had been when Greg had breakfast with him; now he was easy, gentle, leaning in with a smile while he smoothed the stuff over pale cheeks. It earned him a funny face, Jimmy squirming. "Yuck."

"Reminds me of failed caravan vacations," 'Basty' smiled, rubbing it into Jimmy's skin. "And you'd burn up if I didn't cover you in this."

It was still one of those moments where Greg was putting the pieces together, considering and turning over what his options were other than pretending the one night stand had never happened. Jimmy's expression was happy, like a kid, like the words that didn't match the voice at all.

"It's stinky. Like the lady who stayed last night." That was the pout of a master manipulator, or it might have been once. Greg couldn't quite place the face, but it seemed familiar. "I didn't like her."

"I know. I just wanted someone to stay with you while I was out." He tousled Jimmy's hair, playing with it for a moment. "I'll get someone else next time. Anyway, I know you played Xbox all night. Your gamer tag told me."

Jimmy ducked his head, then, peeking up with a smile that lacked all apology. "Yes."

"You're gonna kick my arse next time we compete, aren't you?" He leaned in, brushed cheek to cheek with Jimmy, and then absently scanned the boat. Busted. Totally busted. "Hello."

"Hi." At least he managed not to do anything more than look a bit sheepish. "I couldn't help overhearing. The monkeys come and play with you?" And that had clearly been the right tactic because Jimmy's face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically even as Basty stroked the last of the sunscreen onto his ears.

"Uh-huh!"

"They're still wild animals, but wild animals who've gotten comfortable with tourists giving them treats. The daring ones'll come right up to you for peanuts and some of the feed." 'Basty' lifted his eyebrows at Greg. "Hello. I'm Sebastian, and this is Jimmy."

Greg would bet good money on Jimmy being the one he had talked about last night, the one who liked to be blown forever and the one Sebastian clearly must love. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy the monkeys. It was nice to meet you, Jimmy. Sebastian."

"Yeah, you have fun, too." Sebastian lifted a hand in half a wave, and then turned a little to point at something off in the trees, a brightly colored bird, all of his attention on Jimmy now that Greg had dismissed himself.

He wasn't going to try to guess what had happened. Traumatic brain injury of some kind was obvious, and given the wars, pretty likely the source of it. Greg was pretty sure, too, that he'd didn't have anyone in his life who'd stick around after something like that.

It was enough to make him sad but, well. Monkeys. He'd paid for the trip so he might as well enjoy it.

They reached the boathouse, and everyone carefully disembarked onto it. There were deck chairs and shade to sit under, and what looked like more seats and viewing spots inside. Probably in case it started to rain. He kept half an eye on Sebastian and Jimmy, mostly to go sit on the opposite side of the boat.

"Nice view, isn't it?"

The comment startled him a little, and today clearly wasn't going to be any kind of good surprise. Still, Greg turned and offered up a smile because who could say? Maybe today would start looking up if he made the effort. "Gorgeous, actually. I'm Greg." He held out a hand and didn't flinch at the sight of the scar that crossed over the man's cheek and nose.

"I'm Will." And smiling with his eyes, expression slightly thoughtful as he shook Greg's hand. "You shouldn't feel guilty about sleeping with him. It's a very balanced way to handle things."

Jesus, did he have it written all over his face? His dismay must have been because Will laughed and Greg knew he must look surprised. "Um. So, I have no idea how to reply to that." Will, whoever he was, still had his hand, too.

"Sit down, get a drink, and enjoy the view." Will lifted his eyebrows at Greg and tugged a little before letting go of his hand. "You could come kayaking with me later."

Yeah. He supposed he could, and the vague idea that hiding a body here would be much too easy flitted through his head and was dismissed. "Sure. Two's usually better than one, right?"

"Always makes for a better trip."

What the hell. Why not? This was already a trip he was never telling anyone about in its entirety. Might as well go for it, and his smile got one in return.

"Sure."


End file.
